What's On The Menu, Nagihiko?
by SeeingXxViolet
Summary: Kukai tries to eat Temari for breakfast. Go figure.


**Kitase-chan: Ho hum. I have too many stories in progress at the moment already Dx... But this is just a little one-shot. I don't why this story exists, and my only excuse for writing it is that it's total crack. XD So, enjoy.**

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><p>There were, on most occasions, only four possible reasons why Kukai would be in a bad mood in the morning. One, it was the first day back at school after a long and memorably enjoyable holiday. Two, his brothers had woken him up earlier than was necessary. Three, he had fallen asleep on a water bed, and woken up seasick. And the fourth: there were no eggs for breakfast.<p>

Damn.

One would think, in the expanse of elegantly designed hallways and rooms that stated, 'I'm so wealthy I don't _need_ to decorate, you just know it,' that made up Nagihiko's mansion, (and it was, by any definition, a mansion) that there might be at least one or two eggs for Kukai to eat for breakfast. But no. Nagihiko was just the kind of person who didn't eat eggs. Which would have been fine with Kukai, since he was all about diversity and understanding and getting along despite differences and all those things, except that it meant that here he was, hungry, and without a protein-filled meal to kick-start his day.

Mentally Kukai ran through all the instances he could recall when he had offended Nagihiko. Because, surely, Nagihiko was aware of Kukai's dietary preferences, and had done this just to spite him? Or _was_ he aware? Kukai was sure he talked about food a lot. Tadase was always asking him to find something else to talk about. Why, Kukai had phoned their dear friend that very morning, at four a.m., to tell him about a brilliant pie he'd eaten the day before, and the blonde had displayed a colourful vocabulary that Kukai hadn't known he possessed before slamming down the phone in tears. So surely Nagi knew that he needed, absolutely _needed_ eggs in the morning?

Well, whatever Nagihiko's twisted little reasons were for doing this to Kukai when Kukai had so kindly stayed over at his house to be his study partner right before his big exams... oh. _Oh._ That was probably it. Okay, well, whatever motivations Nagi may or may not have had, the fact of the matter was that Kukai was now in need of an alternate source of what he considered to be one of the eight-and-a-half most important meals of the day.

Kukai closed the fridge door with an exaggerated sigh, and that was when he saw her. Floating over by the window there. So dainty and pinkish-purple, and so very innocent.

She was kind of – well, she was kind of appetising.

And she _did_ come out of an egg. So in a way, the thought that now popped into Kukai's mind was perfectly logical.

Yes. Suddenly it all made perfect sense. Kukai casually leaned over the kitchen bench and slid open the cutlery drawer, and ever-so-casually retrieved a knife and fork. 'Temari,' he cooed in his most casual-sounding coo. 'Here, Temari.'

Temari turned to face Kukai, her eyes glinting suspiciously at his tone. One small hand was raised to her mouth. 'Kukai-kun?' she asked hesitantly, her voice like buttered candy.

Kukai gripped the knife and fork tightly and took several steps towards her. She flew the same distance backwards. He took several steps more. She flew backwards again.

'Now, now, Temari,' he reprimanded her gently. 'Who's a good little Temari? There's no need to be scared of Souma-senpai.'

Temari disliked the animal gleam in Kukai's emerald green eyes. She backed away further, looking around frantically for Nagihiko.

The usually easygoing thirteen-year-old took a step closer. "Here, here, sweet Temari." Temari flew backwards again, and realised with a sinking feeling that she was backing into the kitchen corner. He was trapping her. She looked over to the embroidered, imported silk drapes to her left, and to the delicate scrollwork hanging in frames on the wall to her right. Kukai was drawing nearer and nearer.

"N..." It suddenly occurred to Temari that maybe Kukai was simply having a mood swing. Yes, maybe this all boiled down to mere puberty.

A twisted smile stretched across his lips, so different from his usual warm-hearted smile. "Teeeeh – mah – _riii_." His voice became low and rasping. Temari shook her head just slightly – no, this couldn't be puberty. Nagihiko was going through puberty – but he never tried to _eat_ her.

"N..." Temari trembled. He was drawing closer, so very much closer. He was nearly upon her.

"_Yummeh_," he said suddenly in a deep, growly voice, grinning evilly with his knife and fork raised. He pounced in for the kill.

"N – _NAGIHIKO!_" she screamed with all the might her tiny lungs could muster, and zoomed straight upwards. Kukai leapt up, trying to catch her with his fork. He missed by a millimetre. In a flurry Temari flew out of the kitchen and down the long, winding hallway, searching frantically for her absent human.

Nagihiko was heading towards the kitchen for breakfast when a purple blur sped towards him. He looked up in surprise, just in time for it to hit him hard in the face.

"Ow," he complained, rubbing his jaw. The blur didn't stop to apologise, however, instead diving straight into his tresses of long dark hair and staying there. "Temari?" he questioned. "What's wrong?"

The little chara shook as she told him, "Your friend is crazy."

Nagihiko looked up again – this time, it was because Kukai was barging down the hallway. Kukai stopped in his tracks when he spotted Nagi. He grinned. "Oh. Hiya, Nagihiko!"

Rhythm, hovering by Nagi's other shoulder, backed up suspiciously. "I'm getting a weird vibe from this dude," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Nagi to hear.

"He tried to _eat_ me," Temari whispered, the statement ending in a muffled sob.

Nagihiko eyed Kukai apprehensively. He glanced at the knife and fork in Kukai's hands. "Kukai," he said after a moment, "in my house we don't allow cutlery out of the kitchen." He studied the older boy quite seriously.

Kukai rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Oh – right. Sorry about that." His easygoing demeanour seemed to return, but Nagi thought there was something slightly off about his movements.

"Kukai," Nagihiko deliberated, "I think you'd better go home." His tone was quiet, but no-nonsense.

"Aw – don't be like that. Aren't you enjoying my company?" The auburn-haired boy tried to shrug of the tense atmosphere laughingly.

This only made Nagihiko more certain. "Kukai, you're tired," he pressed. "You should leave. _Now_," he added firmly.

"Okay, okay." Kukai held his arms up. He looked around, at a loss for what to do with the cutlery in his hands. "Um..."

"Put them on the floor. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Kukai obeyed. "So, my stuff..."

"You can collect your bag later. I'll bring it by, actually." Nagihiko walked Kukai to the door, dark amber eyes boring into him. "See you later, Kukai," he said once they got to the door. He swiftly opened it, and suddenly Kukai was standing outside.

Kukai glanced down. "What – huh?" He was confused. Had the younger boy moved him? He doubted it; he would have noticed. So how did his location suddenly shift?

Nagihiko's stare lost all pretence of friendliness. He regarded Kukai disdainfully. "Let me inform you of something, Kukai. _No one_ offends a Fujisaki. Nor do they offend the chara of a Fujisaki." His words sounded down with the weight of a hundred generations of grace and power. The heavy wooden door swung slowly closed, though Nagihiko hadn't touched it at all. Kukai was left all alone, to scratch his head in puzzlement, and to stare up in confoundedness at the elegant characters that spelt out the Fujisaki name.

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><p><strong>Kitase-chan: Hehe~ I was actually more scared of Nagi for a moment there. Anyway... thanks for reading, and please review! x)<strong>

**Oh, and the disclaimer. Disclaimer yes yes. I don't own Shugo Chara!... but you probably realise that.**


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